


Devour the Days Ahead

by nabicnvs



Category: GOT7
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Other, Polyamorous relationship, Running away from home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:00:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29884938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nabicnvs/pseuds/nabicnvs
Summary: Jaebeom's guts are finally pulsing with the will to leave. With shaking hands, he throws necessities into his backpack, grabs his jacket and doesn't stop to look back even though in front of him there are only shades and colours he sees. It's all hazy and intoxicating and he's breathing so heavily that he cannot help but pray that he will make it to see the light flickering at the other end of the tunnel.
Relationships: Im Jaebum | JB/Mark Tuan/Jackson Wang
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Devour the Days Ahead

**Author's Note:**

> title is from [Ohms](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KUDbj0oeAj0) but my main inspiration for this was [their cover of Drive](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cHiP3_-N0Vc).

A grey landscape left behind. Fragments of childhood in his backpack, bleeding but still breathing heart in his chest. It’s actually pounding excruciatingly fast with so many mixed emotions. 

As always, he’s pouring from the edges. All in silence, as he exercised his whole life. 

But he’s abandoning it now. And he took almost nothing with him. Because he’s nothing from that house, and wants nothing from it. Doesn't even want the memories, but, unfortunately, most of them are not detachable like lego pieces. 

And he… he’s just a ghost. Mouth full of blood, unable to speak. Head full of hurtful images he picked up like flowers and kept as in a journal. A chest too young to be bleeding like it’s dying. 

A grey landscape ahead of him, too. Colder. Darker. Filled with an unknown that is just terrifying. 

Yet he straddles it anyway; he’s just a ghost that cannot be hurt anymore. 

Silence passes faster when you close your eyes, he learned. So, after occupying an empty spot in the scratching monochrome silence, he closes his eyes and opens the journal inside his brain. His dearest possession yet his best-trained demon.

 _And he can see, the hollow man and the mouth for war._ He smiles, a small, almost bitter smile, because he adores them both so so much. He’s not yet sure if he _loves_ them, because the word is one with much more emotion that Jaebeom is capable to feel at the moment — it’s a whole galaxy of its own, filled with both grey dust and shining stars. And Jaebeom is not sure he shall use this word yet, because he’s still small, still fragile, still easily breakable. 

That’s why he chose an escape. A desperate one. The only one his eyes could see. The one which was as safe as the bright unknown laying at the other end of the tunnel. 

The harsh truth was that he needed someone to tell him when things weren’t too great. And he needed someone to pick him up when he would get down. Someone youthful, to lift him up when he would deserve and to hold him down when he would shake. _That’s why he fell for the mouth for war. Because he was free, admirable, and he had this gift of turning almost anything into a joyful moment._

He needed someone to pay attention to his dreams, too. Someone harsher, in essence, but way more spiritual. Someone to plug his ears when he would scream. Someone who would wait for him despite the lack of time, and who would drive him home. _The hollow man was for that, dressed in his old leathers and framed between his sharpness and harshness._

So he ran away. Decided to start it over while having them by his side. Because his parents… well, they have never been there. Not for Jaebeom. 

His heart stops once with the train. But after hours of being stuck in the circle of daydreaming, he has to get off. _He’s here, scared and alone, ready to set foot in the unknown._

And them, the two of them, are waiting for him. They just don’t really pay attention to the world unravelling around them, they look like they’re in a bubble of their own: Mark on his yellow skateboard, making it flip like only he knows, while Jackson’s smoking his tobacco, dressed in his leather jacket and combat boots, with the guitar case heavy on his back.

Jaebeom wonders for a second if they’ll receive him. He has always been scared about being the outsider in the relationship. And about being left behind. 

Mouth wants to scream, but it’s out of sounds. Knees want to bend, but they’re numb. And Jaebeom is afraid, he’s so afraid of the big city he barely knows, of the unfamiliar faces wandering like ghosts, of the foreign sounds. 

Time shifts on the others side as his eyes catch the cigarette lifted high in the air like a signal. He’s stopped for a second to gaze at it with blind eyes so he doesn't even realize when his legs move by themselves, desperately. 

Soon, his body crashes into Mark’s, who’s agile enough to lift him up in the most freeing embrace Jaebeom has ever received. His feet are in the air, his hands are clinging to Mark, and his mind is a glass jar of flies that falls on the ground and gets shattered, therefore freeing the content. And the flies — his thoughts — move everywhere around, disoriented. 

When he’s back on the ground, Mark’s still hugging him so tightly, so lovingly, with so much genuine emotion that Jaebeom could cry. But there is no time for that, because Mark greets him with an open-mouthed kiss in the open eye of the world around. _You know, like the mouth for war he is. Literally._

Jaebeom wonders if the time works differently here or if it’s him not being able to break his habitual cocoon of comfort and respond to the kiss. One second he tries breathing and Mark’s already pulling away with his signature toothy smile. 

He feels like he took the train and got off on another planet the moment Jackson turns his head around and kisses the breath he’s been meaning to let out for long. Though Jackson is not as playful as Mark, he kisses Jaebeom hard enough to numb his lips, his breath and his cords, too. _Because, you know, Jackson’s the type of guy who described himself as owning a hollow chest, but if you get to know him, you’d eventually figure out that is not true._

Something in Jaebeom explodes when a cold hand rests on his nape and a third pair of lips breaks their kiss with a peck; Mark’s all a shoved face into their kiss, and it’s so endearing that even Jackson sketches an embarrassed grin. 

“You’re going to like it here, love.” Mark assures, hand wrapped securely over his precious Jaebeom while his skateboard is abandoned about two meters away from their feet. 

“Wouldn't say it exactly like that, but I’m glad, too, that you’re finally staying.” 

Jaebeom doesn't expect him disappearing one grey night to be a reason for celebration. He doesn't expect to have a firework put into his hand, flickering so vividly with light against the darkness of the night. And he doesn't expect to hold it in the air on his way to a potential home, all while he’s sitting on Mark’s shoulders while Jackson is next to them, lending the attentive and tender looks that feel like kisses for the both of them.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos to you if you know from where "mouth of war" and "hollow" are :3
> 
> thank you so much if you've given this fic a chance!! i had a fun time ripping yet another drabble from thin air :))
> 
> no, but really, i think markbeomson are an AMAZING pair, and i'm really sorry i did't really manage to do them justice with something richer in feelings and words. i just want to put it out in the world the fact that i love them!!!
> 
> i'm often [here](https://twitter.com/prdsnabi) if you feel like shooting me a message or something. and [here](https://curiouscat.qa/prdsnabi) is my cc in case you want to send me stuff annonymously; i appreciate them all, i really do <3


End file.
